


Clint Barton is the Best Boyfriend

by girlwithaplan



Series: The Avengers are Precious Sweethearts [2]
Category: Hawkeye (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Declarations Of Love, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Making Love, Making Out, Past Sexual Abuse, Post-Coital Cuddling, Relationship Discussions, Sharing a Bed, Shower Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, all the love our reader deserves, its not very graphic but i still feel like i should warn you just in case
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 08:40:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6650722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlwithaplan/pseuds/girlwithaplan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This fic fits within the universe I've created in my other fic in this series, "Super Soldiers Save the Day" but features mostly just sex and discussions of sex between Clint Barton and our reader. You won't miss anything in the other story by skipping this one and you could totally read this as a stand alone without embarking on the long journey of my other fluffy fic. </p><p>If you've been waiting for this, enjoy! I had a blast writing it. :)</p><p>*I know it says past sexual abuse in the tags, but per my style it is a very vague discussion. Nothing graphic about that, mostly lamenting the lack of caring sex our reader dealt with before Clint. Still, if that bothers you, skip to the couch makeout and you'll be golden.*</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clint Barton is the Best Boyfriend

This was it. You were gonna do it. This weekend was going to be the weekend you finally had sex with Clint. 

It was a long weekend and Steve and Bucky were going to be gone on a skiing trip with Natasha. Since Clint was going to stay with you, Steve wasn't too worried about leaving. Bucky took some convincing but with a final (3) hugs and promises to be safe; you were finally, blessedly alone. 

Alone with your thoughts about how he might think you're ugly or stupid or want you to do something you weren't ready for. Your self-deprecating thought train stopped in its track when you found a picture you took of Clint when he wasn't looking last weekend. He was laughing at something and seeing his eye crinkles and small dimples allowed you to decide right then and there to be calm this weekend and not force yourself to do anything. It wasn't a race. 

Just yesterday, he'd crowded you up against the wall in the lab in what was the hottest make out session of your life to date. One of his big callused hands had found its way under your shirt to grab onto your hip and hold you still while the other held your neck, thumb stroking along the underside of your jaw and sending shivers down your spine. You could've broken his hold if you really wanted to, but instead your hands roamed around his shoulders and back, touching everywhere you could reach. 

Every swipe of his tongue against yours had you shuddering and, when he broke free to kiss down your neck, sucking and biting lightly, you moaned. Every inch of Clint was pressed into you and his erection was showing some genuine interest in the situation. Your brain was short-circuiting and your only thought was that you never wanted to stop. He's just barely started rubbing against you when Jarvis interrupted, "My apologies, but Dr. Banner is back early and heading your way. He should arrive in 5 minutes." 

Clint stilled immediately and let out a quiet, "dammit," as you let your head fall back against the wall. Clint pulled back and ran a hand through his hair, recently mussed by your frantic hands and shook his head, "We gotta get some privacy." You nodded and stepped forward to kiss his cheek before it dawned on you, "This weekend?" 

Clint stared at you with a funny look on his face, but said, "You wanted me to come stay, right?" 

"Well," you continued, shrugging back into your lab coat, "Natasha's taking Steve and Bucky skiing, so I'll have the apartment that's definitely not in a tower monitored 24/7 all to myself." The mix of surprise and delight on Clint's face was adorable, and he asked because he was perfect and always thinking about you, "Are you sure? You don't have to do anything you don't want to." 

Rolling your eyes, you remarked, "Of course I'm sure," and when he raised an eyebrow at you, you confessed, "it makes me a little nervous, but I want to."

Looking down at your feet you confessed, blushing wildly, "I want you so badly...if you'll have me." 

"Look at me, baby," Clint's voice was so soft that you had no choice but to raise your eyes. He smiled but his gaze was razor sharp when he said, "I want you. Anything you want to give me, I'll take it. But you know I'd never, ever hurt you, right?" You nodded and he kept on, "So we need to have a talk. About whatever's bothering you, okay? Before we do anything else." 

"Okay," you agreed, sighing a little, "we can just talk when you come tomorrow, okay? Bruce has got a mile long list for me this afternoon." Clint chuckled and leaned in to kiss your forehead before making his way out of the lab. 

~

The weather was bitterly cold with a high chance of snow Saturday, so it was perfect for a weekend of staying home. To distract yourself while you waited for Clint to arrive, you made sure there were plenty of blankets, flashlight with batteries, candles, and matches in case of a blackout. The pantry was also bursting full, so no worries about non-perishables, and several gallons of filtered water. Leave it to Bucky to stock you for a nuclear apocalypse. 

In your room, you checked on your other, more adult supplies, checking the dates on the condoms for the third time. You stared at your bed again, wondering if you should change the sheets, but those thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. 

Clint walked in and you tilted your chin up for a kiss before he set down his bags and wrapped you up in a hug. "How’re you doing today?" he asked and you turned your face into his shoulder, "Fine. Better. You?" 

"Good, good," he said, still holding you tightly. He rubbed his nose in your hair and breathed deeply, "Ready to talk?" You pushed away a bit and stared at him for a few seconds. Clint held your gaze until you spoke up, "Yeah. I'm as ready as I'll ever be." 

He sat down on the couch at one end and you sat at the other. Clint turned to face you and said, “You know you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to tell me, but the last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable or hurt you by doing or saying something you don’t want.” You took a deep breath, almost unable to believe how precious he was.

“Well, I haven’t… _been_ with anyone since my ex. And he hadn’t…” you struggled to find the right words, “wanted me for awhile by the time we broke up.” Clint’s expression was a mix between sad and angry, but there was no pity or judgment that you could see. Another deep breath, “So it’s been like a year and a half since I had any kind of sex. And the last time with him wasn’t pleasant for me.”

“What do you mean by that?” he asked through gritted teeth. You looked up at the ceiling before you answered, “He just kind of…told me we were going to have sex. I agreed, but he just kind of went at it without really paying attention to me at all. He wouldn’t even look at me and it hurt, but it was over fast. Then when he was done, he told me not to worry about sex for awhile because he’d be too busy to, and he actually said this, ‘spend my valuable time fucking someone who wasn’t even that attractive anyway,’ and that was that. Nothing since then.”

The only thing keeping Clint’s jaw off the floor at this point was gravity. He just stared at you, mouth agape, before he shook his head like a dog and asked, “He basically strong-armed you into sex and then called you ugly?” You shrugged, “Basically.” Clint slid down the couch toward you and held out his hands, palms up, “Can I?” You put your hands in his and he said very seriously, “I love you. You deserve better than that.” He kissed both your hands and you wrapped your arms around his neck, “I already have so much better.”

Clint wrinkled his nose at you and you kissed it, making him laugh and wrap his arms around your waist. “I love you,” you said, scooting closer to press your upper bodies together. Clint laid back slowly against the arm rest, pulling you fully on top of him and asked, “You want to make out? I’ll male sure you forget all about him.”

“Yes please,” you answered and it was like yesterday in the lab but a thousand times better because you were 1) on top of Clint, 2) on a couch, and 3) not in the Tower. You kissed lazily for a few minutes before something took over Clint and he flipped your positions so were underneath of him and the kisses got more hungry and sloppy. “How do you feel about hickies?” he asked at some point and all you could manage was, “Yes,” before he was latching onto your neck and you groaned, trying your best _not_ to pull him down on top of you.

That little control was lost when he bit down on your neck, not too hard, but enough to send a jolt of pleasure down your spine and you moaned, wriggling underneath him. Clint got the message and started grinding into you before pausing and saying, “Hang on, baby. Hang on.” You stopped and looked up at him questioningly.

“I don’t want this to be a quick fuck on the couch. Unless you want that?” You thought for a second, and then shook your head, “No I don’t want that.” Clint sat up and pulled you up as well, “Do you wanna take this to your room or stop?” You couldn’t quite meet his eyes because you did want it, but you were also anxious as hell.

He waited for you to answer and didn’t press you, just placed his hand gently on your cheek. You leaned into the touch and sighed, “Maybe not right this second? I’m sor-” Clint cut you off with a tsking noise in the back of his throat, “No, no, sweetheart. Don’t say you’re sorry. It’s all about your speed, okay?” You nodded and he gave your cheek the lightest of squeezes before releasing you and getting up to raid your fridge.

You slumped back against the couch, taking deep breaths in on three counts and out on three. You could do this, you thought, because you trusted Clint and he cared _so much_ about your comfort. You got up and went into the kitchen where Clint was flipping through takeout menus and said in a cringingly wobbly voice, “Clint?” He looked up and you got so distracted by his eyes that you just blurted, “I love you.” His answering smile was radiant and held out an arm for you to come into his side.

Clint leaned his head against yours and said, “I love you, too. No matter what.” You placed your hand on top of his around your shoulders and clasped it tightly, “No matter what.”

~

After a very long night filled with a power outage and a heart to heart talk, you were standing in Steve and Bucky’s bathroom being kissed by Clint with steam from the shower filling the room. Slowly, Clint skimmed his hands under your shirt and stroked up and down your sides. He tugged your shirt up and you leaned back to get out of it completely.

Clint let his eyes scan up and down your exposed skin and licked his lips before he brought his hands around to the clasps on your bra and asked, “Can I?”

“Yeah,” you said and he got it off with one hand and you would’ve had more time to be appreciative of that skill if you weren’t busy getting rid of your sweatpants and underwear as quickly as humanly possible. Clint was undressed seconds after you were and whoa. What had you been waiting for exactly?

His legs were firm and muscular and you really wanted to get better acquainted with those _thighs_ in the very near future. His chest and abs and arms and back were already very familiar to you from months of watching him train and not so subtly staring as often as the opportunity presented itself. But seeing him like this; head to toe bare and already breathing heavily, it _did something_ to you.

Finally, you worked up the confidence to glance at his half-hard cock and _goddamn_ , you were going to start drooling any minute. It wasn’t especially huge, but it was thick and uncut and getting interested in the level of nakedness in the room. You wanted to somehow suck it and ride it at the same time, but your thoughts were interrupted when Clint gripped himself and stroked slowly. Looking up, you saw him smirking a little and rolled your eyes.

“Get in the shower before your ego gets any bigger,” you demanded, stepping in yourself and letting the hot water soak your hair and run down your body. True to your word, their shower was huge, big enough that you could get under the spray and Clint could watch you without either of you being jammed into the wall. Once your hair was sufficiently soaked, you moved out of the spray a little and he said, “You’re beautiful. All of you is so beautiful,” and kissed you, hot and fast and with a lot of tongue.

Clint ran his hands down your bare back as he kissed you and gripped your ass firmly, bringing you closer to his hardening cock. He kneaded the muscles in his hands and you gasped into his mouth and changed course to kiss down his neck and push your chest into his, feeling your nipples harden instantly. His hands traveled back up to your waist and turned you so your back was actually against a wall before he let them get a hold of your breasts, squeezing and massaging gently before lowering his head to gently lick at a nipple and you moaned, the sound bouncing off the tile walls around you.

“You like that?” he asked, breathless already. “Uhhh,” was all you got out before he was turning his attention back to your nipples, sucking and licking and generally driving you wild. One of his hands wandered south, rubbing circles around your belly button with his thumb and splaying his fingers out lower, lower until they were almost where you wanted them. They continued stroking your skin softly when Clint brought his head back up to kiss you again and asked, “This okay?”

You kissed him back enthusiastically and choked out a breathy, “Yes.” One finger started slowly rubbing you and you sighed, tension melting out of you. It had been so long since anyone had touched you like this and you didn’t realize how much you missed it. You let your head fall back against the tiled wall while Clint latched his lips onto your neck and kept up steady pressure on your clit.

Eyes closed, mouth open, you allowed yourself to give in to the quickly-escalating pleasure of Clint’s fingers, gasping loudly when you felt one work its way inside you. His hand stilled. Clint’s lips brushed your ear and he asked, “Still okay?”

“Yes, yes, please,” you babbled, too close to care how desperate you sounded. He laughed and kissed your cheek, but he obliged, curling a second finger inside you and pumping them in and out while rubbing your clit even faster with his thumb. It felt like you might collapse from the intensity and you tensed up around his fingers, trying to hold off your orgasm as long as possible.

Clint, however had different plans and he coaxed you out of your head with a syrupy sweet, “C’mon, gorgeous. Let go for me. I want to see it,” and you were coming before he finished his sentence, breathing hard while he worked you through it.

Your legs felt like jelly when Clint helped you out of the shower and handed you a towel, but you wanted more, needed more of him. “My room,” you said as you secured the towel under your arms and headed out of the bathroom, not bothering to see if Clint was following.

The door clicked shut and Clint wrapped his arms around you from behind, pulling you flush against his front. “I love you,” you blurted, overwhelmed with so many _feelings_ for this man. He spun you around in his arms and said, “I love you so much,” and smashed his lips into yours, “I promise,” he said against your lips between kisses, “I’m gonna take such good care of you.”

You took a few steps back and laid back on the bed, pulling him down to cover your body and smiling up at him, “I know.” Clint pushed himself up on his strong, ridiculously beefy arms and took a long second to look over your towel-covered form with dark, desire-filled eyes. “Later, I want to eat you out and see how many times you can come in a row.” You shuddered visibly and he licked his lips, “But right now I just want to get you naked and make love to you like I’ve been wanting to for months.”

Months? God, he was going to be the death of you. “Yeah let’s do that,” you agreed and pulled his towel off of his hips and tossed it to the side. You sat up enough to allow him to dispose of yours as well. Tentatively, you reached down and gripped Clint’s cock, feeling the warm weight of it in your hand. He sighed at the contact and moaned when you rubbed your thumb over his slit.

“Later,” you said, still stroking him gently, “I want this in my mouth.” Clint’s rock-hard cock twitched at the idea. “But right now,” you added, releasing him and reaching in your bedside drawer for a condom, “I want you inside me.” He took the condom from you and rolled it on. “Anything you want,” he promised, leaning down to kiss you again before reaching down to position himself and slide into you agonizingly slowly, watching your face intently.

Clint’s stupidly handsome concerned face was making you flush red-hot so you closed your eyes and took a moment to revel in the feeling of his thick cock inside you, filling you up, and only opened them when he paused. Holding himself up on one hand, he used the other to stroke your cheek. “Move,” you groaned, trying to move your hips.

He laughed softly and trailed his hand slowly down to one of your breasts and rolled your nipple between his fingers and you inhaled sharply, babbling “Clint, please, p-please.”

“Anything you want,” he repeated, rolling his hips and setting a slow pace. You hooked your ankles around his back to keep him from going to far when he pulled out and pushed in at the same maddening place, mumbling, “So good, you feel so fuckin’ amazing, baby.”

You ran your hands over his arms and shoulders and abs and chest, overcome suddenly with the need to memorize every inch of him in this moment. He continued to pump in and out of you steadily, going on about how pretty you were and you pulled him down to kiss sloppily.

“Faster,” you whined, trying to pull him closer, “please, Clint.” He obliged, too turned on and too close to keep up his slow pace any longer. He thrust harder and faster, chasing his end and he panted out, “I’m gonna come,” and you nodded, “Yeah, baby, come for me, come.” He slammed into you once, twice, three more time and then, “ah, ah, oh, _holy shit_ ,” as he came. After a few more weak thrusts in the aftershocks, he pulled out and took off the condom, tying it up and dropping it in the bin beside the bed.

You pulled him down on top of you, enjoying the feeling of his entirely naked and sated body pressed into yours. Clint laid still for a minute and let you run your fingers through his hair as he caught his breath. Eventually, he rolled off of you and you followed, throwing an arm across his chest and enjoying his post-sex, fucked-out facial expression. “You okay, love?” he asked and you said, “So much better than okay,” with a timid smile. Clint leaned in and kissed you, but this time it was soft, reassuring.

Neither of you felt like moving much, so you snuggled up close to him under three huge blankets so you could still feel as much of his skin as possible. Your head was resting on his chest and you had an arm and a leg thrown across him, keeping him in place. Clint had an arm curled around your shoulder and the other resting languidly on your thigh, drawing little circles with his fingers.

Your eyes started to feel heavy and you couldn’t seem to stop smiling even as you drifted closer to sleep. Clint’s voice cut through your haze, “Better rest up. You’re not leaving this bed again until Monday.”

“You got plans, Barton?” you asked, nearly back asleep. He replied slowly, in that husky, sleepy voice of his,

“Oh, _baby_ , you just wait and see.”


End file.
